Midnight drew near. At the summit of Hanging Mountain, all was silent save for the mountain wind threading through the pine needles with a low, sobbing moan. Beneath the ancient Guest-Welcoming Pine, gnarled like a coiling dragon, the shadows pooled thick as ink. Han Li sat cross-legged, his presence blending with the old pine and the night. He pushed the Essence-Concealing Technique to its utmost, seeming no more alive than a stone. His eyes were closed as he regulated his breathing, but his spiritual sense spread like the keenest spiderweb over every inch within a hundred-zhang radius, catching the slightest unusual fluctuation.
Time slipped slowly by. The moon climbed to the middle of the sky, its cold, clear light spilling over the pine branches and casting a patchwork of light and shadow.
Suddenly, Han Li opened his tightly shut eyes a fraction, a sharp glint flashing through them. Here he comes!
An exceedingly faint streak of white flight light, almost indistinguishable from the moonlight, glided soundlessly from the direction of the Taizhen Sect's quarters and landed ten zhang from the Guest-Welcoming Pine. As the radiance faded, it revealed a middle-aged Daoist in moon-white robes, with refined features and gentle eyes that held a trace of scrutiny. His cultivation had actually reached the early Core Formation Stage. He was one of the core disciples who had accompanied Venerable Xuanzhen during the day.
The Daoist's gaze swept like lightning across the silent shadows beneath the pine. Rather than approach at once, he formed a hand seal, sending a gentle yet tenacious wave of spiritual sense rippling outward to probe his surroundings carefully.
Han Li's heart tightened. A Core Formation cultivator's spiritual sense is sharp indeed! He dared not relax in the slightest, driving the Essence-Concealing Technique to its peak. Even the rotation